


Swordsplay

by Flamesmith22



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25366036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamesmith22/pseuds/Flamesmith22
Summary: Over her time at the monastery, their time together became more frequent. Cooking, tending the plants, tea parties, sharing meals; everything the vast complex had to offer they sampled together. While Byleth prided herself on being able to read people's intentions, she dared not look too far into the way she and Mercedes appeared to find it harder to go their separate ways at the end of each day. Lingering, racking brains for something, anything, they could talk about to draw the time just a little more.
Relationships: Mercedes von Martritz/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	Swordsplay

Byleth let a long-held sigh sag from her lips as the last of her students left, the heavy door clicking shut behind them. Students...most of them were hardly three years younger than her, practically her peers. Even though it had been seven months since her start, she still caught the tails of whispers slinking around the courtyard from disapproving monks. Scowls marring the powdered noses of the high born, as if she were wet and hadn’t seen her fair share of bloodshed. They were few and far between, yet they made the hairs on the back of her neck rise every now and then. Their pampered, privileged life...threatened by a common girl born of a legendary soldier.

She started stacking her books, faded spines sliding under calloused fingers. Her father's criticisms of nobility made more sense now than ever before. Even without the jeers and sidelong glances, the price many of her students had to pay in life weighed like a ball of lead in the back of her throat. Groomed, cast out, traded, sold off to the highest bidder; it reminded her of the bandit rabble she and her father often routed.

“ _Not how any true noble should act_ ,” she thought bitterly. 

Motes of dust danced in the sun rays of a high, open window, touching some scattered papers strewn across the floor like a lost lover. Byleth bent to pick them up, piling them on Bernadetta’s desk for the following day. The professor would do all she could to ensure the students were strong enough, not just for their country, but for themselves. When pushing them through drills she had to remind herself of that, that she _had_ to know they would defend themselves when they left the monastery. That they wouldn’t lie down and take the hand dealt to them if something sweeter lay just beyond. It was why, during their first mission, she directed the flow of battle in a way that ensured everyone would have to kill once. Their first kill...controlled, monitored. Gruesome as it was, Byleth had no desire to wait for a more perilous mission to see if any of her charges would balk at the prospect. Thankfully, everyone had done well. To her surprise it was Linhardt, not Bernadetta, who seemed to have the hardest time outwardly with the life he had taken. 

* * *

_She passed his room on a late night patrol to find him still awake, shivering at his desk. Frowning, she vanished first to the kitchens and then to the vast library. Though she announced her entrance, the young mage started when she came close. She set a steaming cup of tea in front of him and a thin tome of_ _Fódlan fairy tales beside it._

_“A book of fairy tales?” he questioned, looking dubious._

_Byleth nodded, “They help. Seeded in fantasy they’re light enough on the heart, but the old language is just complex enough to keep the head occupied.”_

_He gave a tired smile, dark circles evident beneath his eyes even in the dull, flickering light of a candle._

_“Thank you, Professor,” he lifted the tea to his lips and took a sip, smiling as he brought the cup down, “Angelica, you really have a knack for remembering people's preferences.”_

_Byleth smiled in return, “Lot’s of practice.”_

_Linhardt sighed, “Does it take lot’s of practice to get used to killing people?”_

_“That’s something you never fully get over,” She answered, no use covering the matter. Sugar coating it often wound up either glorifying the matter or driving people insane._

_“But what about you? I mean, when that bandit went after Dorothea while her back was turned, you were like a great demon. That guy didn’t stand a chance.”_

_Byleth met his eyes, finding them both terrified and hopeful, still a child in so many ways, “You want to know what keeps me standing out there?”_

_Linhardt nodded._

_“He may have been a knight while he was here, but for all my life I only knew of my father as a mercenary. All that time he trained me, teaching me that the number one thing I should remember on the battlefield is who I’m fighting for, not what. Property is fleeting, and ideals can change; proven right, wrong, irrelevant, or somewhere in between at any turn. Focus on the who. Civilians, children, your companions, whoever it is that makes you tremble at the thought of losing. Hold onto that and the knowledge that the foes you are facing won’t show mercy on them. It’s not pretty, but I promise, people who build their lives on raping and killing others will not stop until someone puts a blade between their ribs.”_

_“Hmmm,” Linhardt cradled the warm teacup in his hands, looking at the ground, appearing pensive._

_“I know that doesn’t make the act any easier, but thinking of the people alive thanks to your actions is better than dwelling on the ones you had to cut down,” Byleth said, standing and placing a hand gently on the young man’s shoulder._

_“Thank you, Professor,” he said, forcing a smile, “I will do my best to remember that. I really appreciate you coming to check in on me.”_

_The uneasy dismissal did not phase her. Recalling her first kill, it had been hard for her to be around others afterwards as well._

_“You’re welcome. Anytime you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Try to get some rest tonight.”_

* * *

During the following week of class, Linhardt had asked to switch his focus from battle magic to healing. Byleth was grateful that he did not have to worry about familial issues when he returned home. She was loath to allow him to pass on his natural skill and prowess, but she had no desire to force him into something he did not need nor want. Besides, they could use a skilled healer on their team, and Linhardt was already showing promise with Psychic. 

As for the others, she felt they were developing at a pace at which she could nip and correct when needed. Bernadetta was a surprise sharp shooter, seemingly pleased with the idea that she could take out enemies without getting too close. She would have to be checked so that she didn’t shoot a civilian or teammate in a burst of fear. Ferdinand and Caspar were outwardly boastful, while Dorothea and Edelgard appeared to feel remorse while openly acknowledging the need of killing. Byleth had a feeling that Petra’s “first” kill wasn’t truly her first. She quickly brought her composure back, and the way she spoke after the battle conveyed a woman whose heart remained human despite her training to survive. Good. As far as she was concerned, a soldier without heart was just a bandit in disguise. Finally Hubert...just as callous and willing to serve Edelgard as always, definitely not his “first” either. Were it not for the future empress, she was certain he would be a threat to the other's safety. 

The professor had kept an extra watch on them over the following months, especially after each new battle. She kept her door cracked, against her father's years of security teachings, should any of them need her in the dead hours of night when specters were known to seek out the souls that slayed them. It was tiring, but she would not have combat taint them any further than they had to be.

In the distance a bell tolled, each tone adding to the melody which had been the ballad of heroes in ages past. It was seeped so deeply in time that it had taken root in a myth that varied from region to region. To Byleth, it was a herald summoning her to her evening meal with Mercedes. Thinking of the young woman immediately brought a smile to the professors lips, dissipating some of the clouds clogging her mind. She hadn’t expected to find such companionship and a willingness to look past her gruff past from the healer.

She had made the mistake of assuming that the fair skinned woman would be too much akin to her prior house leader, but was pleased to find that assumption wrong. Mercedes was one of the few individuals her age at the monastery who treated her evenly, rather than above or beneath. It was a gentle, natural ebb with Mercedes. She expected no greatness or failure from Byleth. She was content to take her as she was and a friendship flourished. It didn’t hurt that she was attractive as well. 

A heat rose beneath her cheeks. Not once, until this year, had she taken any form of romantic interest in another person. Sure, there had been two or three brief bedroom flings with other young ladies in the past, but none had reached a depth that Mercedes did. The rush of heady emotions staggered her as her chest and spine came to life with humming sensations. Sincerely, she hoped the dining hall would be serving one of Mercedes favorites, the smile that dominated her face when a well loved meal was placed in front of her held more beauty than all the flowers in the vast monastery gardens. It was a beauty that radiated outward from genuine gratitude, an understanding that action often conveyed much more than words.

Over her time at the monastery, their time together became more frequent. Cooking, tending the plants, tea parties, sharing meals; everything the vast complex had to offer they sampled together. While Byleth prided herself on being able to read people's intentions, she dared not look too far into the way she and Mercedes appeared to find it harder to go their separate ways at the end of each day. Lingering, racking brains for something, _anything_ , they could talk about to draw the time just a little more. 

Byleth hummed as she scurried about the office, gathering things to be rushed back to her room before dinner. Just as everything was carefully stacked in her arms, a knock rapped gently on the oak door. A low groan rumbled in her chest, she briefly considered letting whoever it was walk away, but if it happened to be one of her charges…

“Come in,” she called, setting the pile on the corner of her desk. The knob clicked, allowing the door to swing inward enough for a wheaten head to peek through, causing Byleth’s heart to stumble over itself, bungling it’s own rhythm.

“Oh good, you’re alone,” Mercedes said, sliding in and closing the door behind her. 

Warmth radiated through Byleth’s front as she smiled at her dear friend, “I hope you weren’t waiting for me in the dining hall. I had a few things to clean up around here first.” 

“Not at all, I was actually hoping I’d be able to catch you here. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“Of course, what do you need?”

“Well, um, I was wondering,” Mercedes eyes scanned the room, hesitant, as if seeking some hidden answer. Byleth tilted her head, curious, Mercedes typically had no issue saying what was on her mind, calling peers out just as easily as handing out compliments; often with the same, calm demeanor. The other woman’s gaze eventually fell to the sword at Byleth’s hip.

“Could you teach me the basics of swordplay?” she asked, flushed and nearly stumbling over her words, “I tried having Dimitri help, but that nearly ended in disaster.”

“I’m a little more expendable, huh?” Byleth teased, resting a hand on the cool hilt of her blade.

“Not at all! I don’t think I could bear it if I hurt you! You’re just more...perceptive. You’re good at reading people and their movements. I fully trust that you wouldn’t let yourself get injured by me.”

Byleth chuckled, “You got me there,” she pulled the weapon free from its sheath, a deadly, metallic hiss filled the room. Turning it, she offered the hilt to her companion, noting the brief wave of shock at being offered a personal weapon. She took it with a smile though, the warm brush of her tender fingers almost causing Byleth to let go before it was secure in Mercedes’ grasp. 

It wavered slightly in Mercedes' hand. The woman brought her other to the hilt, grasping it tightly while keeping her feet planted firmly together. 

“Let’s begin with your stance,” Byleth said, walking behind Mercedes, “You’ll want to drop your non-dominant hand, this is a short sword, so you only need one.” 

Mercedes obliged, left hand falling delicately to her side. The other remained soldered to the sword, knuckles blazing white against her pale skin. 

“Now let’s loosen your grip. You only need to hold tight with your thumb and first two fingers, allow the other two to coil gently around the hilt,” she brought her right hand up, covering Mercedes’. It was soft, warmed by natural heat. Byleth could feel the muscles that had formed from years of steady handiwork relax under her touch. Mercedes yielded control as Byleth guided her arm back, ensuring her wrist was loose and in line with her forearm.

“You don’t want to hold tension in your sword arm. That will lead to delayed and clumsy movements. Stay light, feel it’s flow.” 

Byleth was close enough now to smell a hint of lavender, light and airy, drifting up from the back of Mercedes neck. It seemed oddly fresh as it filled the chambers of her nose. Heart trembling, part of Byleth’s focus turned to keeping her breaths even. 

“Move your feet in line with your shoulders. Once there, move your right forward slightly, stay at ease and springy.” 

Byleth mirrored the movements from behind, left hand moving instinctively to Mercedes’ plush waist. Her heart scrambled to her throat, slamming against vocal chords as she hastily started to draw her hand away. However; Mercedes’ soft palm met the back of her hand. Long, slender fingers entwined in her own, pinning her gently in place. Skin and fabric sunk slightly under the pressure, allowing Byleth to feel the long, deep pulls of breath the other was taking. She thought she could feel a slight hitch or tremble every now and then. 

Byleth’s face colored. From the corner of her eyes, she could see a flush of rose on alabaster cheeks. A warm, tingling pressure swept over her shoulders, puppet strings trailing up her neck and pulling her face into a smile. Fervently, Byleth prayed that her hammering heartbeat wasn’t detectable against the other woman’s broad back.

“So, this is a good stance, Professor?” Mercedes asked, more timid than Byleth was used to. 

“Yes...you don’t have to call me Professor when it’s just the two of us though,” Byleth blushed, stray strands of hair brushing her nose, “You can call me Byleth,” she added, hardly audible in the vast chamber.

Laughter whispered nervously from Mercedes’ mouth, “Alright, Byleth, but only if you call me Mercie. That’s who I am to those closest to me.” 

“It’s a deal, Mercie,” the name rolled from her lips, a mild breeze rolling ripples over the surface of the pond on a misty morning. Byleth’s head was growing full and sluggish with a pulsing desire to let her face sink into the flaxen hair as she held Mercedes warm body close.

“ _I mustn’t be too presumptuous,_ ” Byleth chided.

She stepped back, not fully trusting her feet to go where she wanted. Her heart ached as she drew her hand away, fingers sliding along the tips of Mercedes’.

“Now that you’ve got the stance, would you like to work on some basic movements? It’s still relatively early after all, there would still be dinner for quite some time.”

“I’d love to, but don’t you need your sword? Surely you don’t intend on using The Sword of the Creator on me, do you?”

Byleth chuckled, “I would never,” she moved to her desk a chose a sizeable ruler, “this should suffice, just be gentle with it.” 

She took an easy stance across from Mercedes, lightly tapping the wooden ruler against tempered steel. The healer still looked uneasy.

“Are you sure I should be the one with the sword?” 

Byleth smiled, “I trust you, bsides, we’ll only be going through some slow, gentle movements to get you used to the weight of the sword.” 

“Alright,” Mercedes answered, smiling in return. 

As they practiced, Byleth had Mercedes start with her left arm tucked behind her back in order to spare any awkward wanderings. The pair worked their way around the room in a slow, undisturbed waltz. Byleth found her mind wandering to the thought of dancing, never truly doing it herself, but drawn to the idea of allowing Mercedes to lead her across the floor. Whispering words long held back as the band strung them along. Returning to their shared chambers after their feet were sore with blisters and weary from the fun.

When an hour had passed, Byleth set down the ruler and reclaimed her sword. They stood, neither wanting to go and open the door to the courtyard. Byleth wondered if they’d do this again. How often could they find the time with Mercedes' busy schedule? She couldn’t deny that she wanted to do this again, deeply. To be so close to Mercedes, helping her and learning things in return.

“Byleth?”

The voice was close, far closer than she remembered Mercedes last standing. She turned her head to find the other woman mere inches away. Mercedes was looking fondly at her face, clearly holding something back, eyes roaming until they rested on Byleth’s lips.

“May I?” Mercedes asked, softly, recognizing that Byleth had followed her gaze.

Byleth nodded, slightly dizzy from the endorphins suddenly dumped into her system, heart swimming in circles at the base of her throat.

Mercedes hand cupped her face as though it were a delicate bloom, closing those precious inches between them until their lips met. Byleth’s heart blazed in her chest, every nerve alive and thrumming in her arms. Mercedes lips, warm and tender, clasped Byleth’s lower lip as if in prayer.

Blushing they broke apart, regarding each other with masks cast aside. Raw, a latent spark of hunger flickered in Mercedes eyes, revealing the years of being pushed under thumbs, wanting to find love, to give and take, take a chance on the blue haired beauty in front of her. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long, Byleth,” she sighed, hand still on her face, leaving a ticklish trail as she traced the ear with the tip of her finger.

“Me too,” Byleth admitted, resting a hand on Mercedes hip. Her other hand was welcomed by the smooth surface of the healer's face. 

Mercedes grinned, looping her free arm around Byleth’s waist, pulling her boldly into her arms. Lips lingered longer, kissing, meeting again and again with growing passion. Byleth moved a hand to the back of Mercedes neck, feeling the downy hair at it’s base. Gradually mouths opened, yearning to be explored. A sweetness lingered in Mercedes mouth, mixing with powdery, floral scents to create a heady combination. 

A low heat spread over Byleth’s calves, also flickering at the bottom of her shoulder blades, twisting around her rib cage and darting between her legs. She clasped Mercedes to her, fists full of fabric bunched up in her hands.

“Byleth,” Mercedes whispered, trailing kisses along her neck. Hands deftly worked at the clasps holding her neck-piece and jacket, dropping them to the floor. 

“Mercie…” Byleth cooed, surprise and desire rippling through her. Careful fingers untied the strings holding the shawl around the healer’s shoulders. The piece slunk to the ground, gradually followed by other articles of clothing and accessories as the duo backed each other up to the large desk. 

Byleth admired the woman pinned against the front of the desk. Milky, smooth skin stretched evenly over her partner. Where her breasts hung only a little, Mercedes' sagged under their size, tipped with pale nipples. Despite the softness, Byleth could tell there was muscle underneath from the various tasks Mercedes piled around her like an ark. She stroked the skin fondly, slightly embarrassed by the number of scars etched on her own body. The healer did not seem to mind though, instead she traced each one with her eyes, every now and then running a finger smoothly along the course. Byleth could have sworn she could see the prayers reflecting in Mercedes eyes, thanking the Goddess for the safety she bestowed. 

She bent down, kissing Mercedes again as her hand trailed along the length of her side suddenly uncertain. Was she right to be doing this? It was what they both wanted for so long. Mercedes certainly wouldn’t suggest it without deep thought and knowing what she was doing...right? 

“Have you done this before?” Byleth asked, pulling away and blushing.

“You’re asking if I’m a virgin,” Mercedes responded, her usual, natural tone relieving Byleth. The woman smiled, monitoring Byleth’s eyes for any readable detail, “No, I am not. While I was in The Sorcerer's Academy, there was a girl my age who caught my interest. I was curious and we had sex one night in her room. It was nice...but I think she more pitied me than cared for me.”

“I’m sorry…” Byleth started, silenced by a slender finger on her lips.

“You’ve never pitied me, so don’t start now. We are very close in age. I see you more as a cherished friend than a professor...a friend I’d very much like to be closer to, if you’ll have me. So don’t go feeling like we can’t make love due to your position here. I know what I am giving, and I want to give that to you.” 

“Thank you,” Byleth murmured, kissing her lips, “I want to give myself to you as well.” 

Mercedes’ lips tickled against hers as she spoke, passing a silent promise in their wake. Byleth could never pity Mercedes for what she had been through, not when her resilience and nature demanded that pity be withheld. She did desire to protect the other woman from lurking dangers still after her crest, namely the influence of her adoptive father, but she knew offering any more than equal assistance would be an insult to Mercedes.

Tenderly she trailed kisses along the healer’s neck until she reached her collarbone. Byleth gripped the pale flesh in her teeth, careful not to bite hard enough to leave a mark. Slowly, she trailed kisses down the woman’s chest, taking in the faint hint of sweat lingering beneath powder and perfume. Desperately she longed to make passionate love to the woman beneath her, but Mercedes was too important for that, she wanted this to last. Working her way along a breast, Byleth took one of the protruding, rose tinted nipples into her mouth. A quiet moan pulled from Mercedes' mouth as it was sucked, teeth and tongue teasing the flesh. Pinching the rising bud between her teeth, Byleth flicked her tongue over it, causing Mercedes to gasp and sink her nails into her back.

Sharp intakes of breath, moans cut off before they could carry, the rising smell of sex drifting hot and musty between the two of them caused Byleth’s hunger to rise. Her abdomen was singing, yearning for precious release while her heart called for the pleasure of the one she held dear.

Deftly she moved to the other nipple, her hand wandering along the plush thighs, feeling the heat radiating from Mercedes center. Fingers stroked the tender skin along the inside of Mercedes' legs, drawing closer to her mound. Gradually she worked her way over the rise, sliding her fingers down on either side of Mercedes opening, coarse hairs grazing her palm. 

Moaning deepened as Byleth parted Mercedes short lips, reveling at the wetness she created. Hips bucked into her hand as she leaned over her partner, mouth still working at her nipple.

“Byleth...please,” Mercedes panted, eyeing her longingly. Byleth slid a finger over the raised bud of flesh which was just barely covered by a hood. Mercedes arched her back in response, throwing an arm over her mouth to stifle a cry. Byleth coyly licked the nipple as she moved her finger up and down along Mercedes clit. She moved to nibble cautiously at the woman’s neck and jawline, unable to keep her mouth away. 

“Let me move so you can leave some marks where no one will see,” Mercedes teased, breaths thick with want. The healer turned herself beneath Byleth, splaying herself out over the desk and pressing her ass into her partners loins. 

A light growl escaped, fueling the passion boiling over within. Byleth lowered herself over Mercedes, wrapping an arm around her hips to continue stroking her heat. Warm muscles tensed beneath, rolling as hips thrust against Byleth’s palm. Learning the notes created by Mercedes’ pleasure was easy, she _wanted_ Byleth to know them, to know exactly what stoked the fires within. Whenever she was directly on the bundle of nerves, Mercedes head tipped back, mouth partially open, air being sucked in by tiny gasps. Shuddering, she’d drop her head, biting her teeth against louder noises, grinding harder into Byleth’s attentive touch. 

All the while Byleth coated her back in kisses, every now and then sucking in some skin and nibbling daintily at it. 

“Byleth,” Mercedes’ moaned, in the middle of one of those minute gasps, “Don’t be afraid to mark me. I can take it, I need you to mark me...Please, claim me.”

“Gladly, my dear Mercie.” 

Byleth groaned lavishly as she rocked her hips against Mercedes' back side, pulling in a portion of flesh to bruise. The determined demands of her partner turned her on even further. Alternating between sucking and biting, she worked up blood beneath Mercedes skin, feeling it rise and ridge under her tongue. Paying close attention to the sounds coming from Mercedes, she mapped several such marks over her back, kissing each lovingly as she was finished. 

A chorus of students laughing just outside her door nearly broke her concentration. Byleth managed to keep hold of it and her tempo, praying Mercedes hadn’t noticed the distraction. Hints of dread filled her stomach, had she locked the door when Mercedes said she wanted to practice her swordsmanship? 

“ _Shit…_ ” she thought, keeping an ear trained on the door as she tended to her lover. Swiftly, she catalogued the thought with the rest of the basic surveillance skills honed into her since childhood. Should she hear the knob starting to turn it would only take two bounds to reach it and push it shut, claiming some delicate situation that she had to resolve first. 

Everything else she drew back to Mercedes, noting that the woman’s mewls and moans were growing more frequent and desperate. There was more moisture on her fingers, making it more difficult to stay directly on the clit. 

“Faster….just a little faster,” Mercedes demanded breathlessly.

Byleth obliged, feeling a cramp starting in her palm but determined to plow through it. Her finger pumped and slid over the tender bud, which had now risen and presented the most sensitive speck the size of a grain of sand. 

“Almost...oh, Byleth, please, please,” Mercedes whimpered just before shoving her face into her arms and crying out, back lurching as her peak came. Her sounds were muffled by her arms, the thought of how loud they would be unhindered filled Byleth with wonder. She stayed on the clit as the spasms came, accompanied by a doused moaning of her name. Byleth’s heart ached with the amount of affection bursting free. To be able to give such release, such closeness and adoration, to someone so dear to her was unlike anything she had experienced in all of her travels. 

Mercedes' entire body went limp over the desk as the blissful afterglow swept its blanket over her. She turned her head enough to look at Byleth with a crystalline blue eye, a smile growing on her face.

“You’re wonderful,” she whispered, still trying to regain her breath. Mercedes sunk to the stone floor, guiding Byleth to a straddle position over her lap. Byleth felt arms wrap around her, a face pressed into ample breasts as little waves of aftershock rolled over Mercedes' body. Fingers laced with tenderness traced the patterns made by scars on her back, reading each ones story like a prayer. Byleth stroked her lover's hair, planting kisses on the top of her head, hungry yet soothed by the touch of Mercedes.

“I would like to make love to you as well, my Byleth,” Mercedes said after they had sat entwined for a few moments. 

_My Byleth_. 

“Please do, I need to feel you, my Mercie,” Byleth responded, looking deep into Mercedes cerulean eyes. Small layers of hardened resolve were peeling behind them, exposing a restraint Byleth long suspected was there. Not one of lust, but of desire in its entirety. A refusal to ask herself what _she_ truly wanted. 

Lips met once more as Mercedes shifted under Byleth, legs pressing into the ground to bring her up with her partner seated in her arms. She stumbled a little on the rise, gripping onto Byleth’s thighs as the pair erupted into charmed laughter. Mercedes lined kisses on Byleth’s neck, burying her nose in the crook as she settled her on top of the desk. 

Lips wandered over her jaw, settling on her mouth and requesting entry. A hand splayed out over her breast, kneading the flesh and roving over the darkened nipple. Fire blossomed throughout the tissue, networking it’s way to pool within Byleth’s core. She moaned into Mercedes' mouth as the nipple was squeezed, rocking her warmth against the smooth wood of the desk. 

Famished, Mercedes worked her way down Byleth’s middle, pulling her closer to the edge of the desk as she knelt and kissed the mound coated by wavy blue locks. Fingers curled into the woman’s hips, leaving half moon divots in their wake. 

Word caught in Byleth’s throat as a devout tongue parted her lips, trailing along her slick opening to a tapered end at the top of her clit. Blazing needles coursed through her middle and thighs at each pass over the sensitive bead. Hot gusts of air steamed from Mercedes nostrils as she lapped up her lover. Moaning, Byleth moved a hand down to her mound, parting her outer lips and pulling up her hood, opening a passage to make breathing less tedious on her partner. 

Feral, she rode Mercedes' face as she dined. Fingers curling against the desk as teeth bared as the other woman’s name stitched itself to each moan and utterance. Everything burned with frenzied pleasure, the very soles of her feet tingling from the overwhelming stimulation. Feeling herself near to climax, Byleth wanted more, so much more of the stunning woman tending to her need. She wanted her lips, her warm body pressed against hers, to fall into the ocean of her soul and be swallowed up in the abyss.

“Mercie, wait, stop for a moment,” she managed to choke out, shuddering when Mercedes pulled away from her heat. 

“Is everything alright?” Mercedes asked, concern etched in her features.

“It’s amazing,” Byleth exhaled, “I...I want to come with you in my arms.”

Mercedes eyes widened as she grinned, diving back between her legs long enough to give a final lick and a delicate parting kiss to the engorged flesh. Byleth slid back on the desk, nudging supplies out of the way as the other woman straddled her. She gladly accepted the weight on her taut abdomen, moaning slightly as Mercedes wet sex pressed into it. The healer leaned over Byleth, leaving a slick spot on the skin where she previously rested. Tongues eagerly embraced as Mercedes’ hand vanished between Byleth’s legs, seeking out the seed she was previously tending. 

Byleth encircled her partner with her arms as she pumped away at her clit. Clinging to her like a lifeline as her arousal flared to life once more. Her teeth clenched as she bucked, holding back a string of moans and curses that would have definitely made their way past the oak door. Everything around her blurred and ceased to exist, everything centering in on Mercedes and the orgasm hurtling towards her like an arrow. Mercedes' eager mouth took in the screams as the arrow struck, sending her back into spasms as pleasure surged through her. It rolled and crashed into her spine, shattering down her legs as she gripped Mercedes. 

Her mouth and throat were dry when she finally sagged back against the desk, breathless and feverishly kissing Mercedes’ face. 

“Mercie...oh, Mercie,” she trembled, pulling the woman down so they lay together, shaking hands, wandering over each other's sweat cooled bodies. Byleth had never felt such a soothing wave of calm before, settled in her lover’s embrace. She had no desire to leave, to break apart and end the connection pinging between them. So they remained like that, until Mercedes stifled a yawn against Byleth’s neck.

“Did I bore you that much?” Byleth teased.

“Not at all! I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything that incredible before. There’s just so much left to do tonight,” she purred, nestling deeper in Byleth’s embrace.

“What more could you possibly have to do?” Byleth asked, feeling a little concerned for the healer.

“Well, I’d like to sweep up the dead leaves from the greenhouse, help the bakers get all their ingredients prepped for the morning baking, and pick up the trash left around the marketplace, oh! And the monks in the chapel could always use help airing out the sanctuary,” 

“You’d ‘like’ to as in you made a promise to do these things or you feel like you have an obligation to do them?” 

Mercedes fell silent and tensed slightly in Byleth’s arms. She’d struck something then...whatever it was that Mercedes was holding back in her day to day actions. The professor reached out, carefully cupping a hand around it as she questioned further, “Mercie, why do you take on so many tasks?” 

Byleth caught a faint tremble from the other woman before she pulled away. Sitting with an easy smile on her face, “It’s nothing to trouble yourself over, Byleth,” there was a firmness in her voice not often heard, and even less detected by those she usually used it on, “Let’s get dressed and have some dinner, we’re probably almost out of time...I’ll-I’ll tell you about it later.” 

Byleth watched as Mercedes hurried to get her clothes back on, lower lip quivering every now and then, shoulders drawn close together and high. For now, she’d let it go, perhaps after the high of sex had worn off Mercedes would be in a more calm state of mind

* * *

In her room after dinner, Mercedes yawned. Her eyes looked glassy under the harsh glare of the setting sun coming in through the window. She looked like she was fighting to keep those last threads pulled taught, preventing walls from crumbling around her. Tentative, Byleth reached out and placed her hand over Mercedes’.

“Mercie...you need to rest. Weren’t you the one telling me that I shouldn’t be pushing myself so much when I first started teaching here?”

Mercedes smiled at her, it was heavy and got trapped beneath her eyes, giving her a harrowed expression, “Yes, but I have plenty of time to rest during my Friday’s off. I’m not quite the same as you. After all she has done for me, I owe it to the Goddess to give all that I can. If it is my fate to be tired, then I will shoulder it glady.”

Byleth winced, clearly detecting a hint of bitterness in Mercedes’ final sentence. Some of the blocks were tumbling, making so much more clear now. Meticulously pulling every weed from the gardens, laboring over a pan that had to be scoured thrice over, passive-aggressive comments in the guise of indifference to those who pushed her just a little too far; faintly Byleth could see the woman within, screaming, “ _if this is what you want, then have it_ ,” to the sky. 

“You don’t need to push yourself to the limits for the Goddess,” Byleth started gently, wishing she could hold the other woman close but refraining due to the open door, “I do not believe She would want you to harm yourself by overworking. You already do so much for others, surely She places great value in what is in your heart.” 

Mercedes opened her mouth to speak, a small cloud blotting her face, stopping when she saw the expression in Byleth’s eyes. Instead she sighed and turned her hand so she could grip Byleth’s.

“I feel completely stripped down when I’m with you,” she murmured, “You’re like me, in the sense that you can pick up on what others are feeling...it scares me a little, for you to see.” 

“There’s no shame in being human, Mercie. Please, get some rest. It hurts to see you like this.” 

“Alright,” Mercedes relented, “but, would you stay with me? There’s no use hiding it from you...I have trouble sleeping.”

“Part of why you run yourself so ragged is to tire yourself out?” 

Mercedes nodded, “It’s been like this for years, ever since mother and I fled House Bartels. It got worse once my adoptive father took me in...will you stay?”

“Of course I will,” Byleth said, heart humming from the trust and vulnerability it was granted, “but it won’t do any good for someone to notice that I never left your room. Close the door after I leave. I will go gather some things from my room, then slip around back and you can let me in through the window.” 

“Thank you,” Mercedes said, relief causing her shoulders to sag, “I’ll be here waiting for you.” 

Byleth gave her hand a final squeeze before letting go and leaving the room, smiling softly as the door shut and the lock clicked behind her. The air had cooled considerably, only a few students and staff remained out of doors. The professor filled her lungs with it as she made her way over the verdant lawn to her room, enjoying the musty scent of worn paper as she entered. 

She really only needed her nightgown, but also wanted to bring a book in case of a restless night. For once she closed and barred her door, pinning a note to the outside saying that if she wasn’t in, she was taking some air in the night. Satisfied, she leaned out her open window and scanned the building behind as if admiring the view. All surrounding windows appeared curtained or clear, making her grin with a wild energy as she vaulted over the sil and landed in the grass. 

With the window shut, she made her way casually along the backside of the dorms, skirting the juttings of the building when needed until she had worked her way back to Mercedes room. As she drew near, she looked over the monastery walls for any signs of activity, thanking the Goddess when she saw none. Mercedes stood at the open window, leaning casually on the counterspace just below it. 

_“Still, best be cautious,_ ” Byleth thought as Mercedes spotted her and backed away from the open portal. Byleth hurried into the room, closing the window and drawing the curtains the minute her feet hit the solid stone below. Immediately after, she was swept up in a tight embrace from behind, a tender kiss landing on the tip of her ear.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Mercedes said softly, letting go, already in her own muted yellow nightgown. Her hair was no longer constrained by a ribbon, instead it spilled over both shoulders. Byleth stroked it, kissing her partner on the lips.

“Anything for you, Mercie,” she whispered, pressing her forehead tenderly against the healer’s. A mellow wave of delirium melted over her. The fact that this wasn’t just some one off fling, that the carefully coated bud was growing, sprouting above the earth to embrace the sun and stars. 

Seeing the hazy drifting of her lover’s eyes, Byleth swiftly disrobed and slid into her nightgown. The fabric was soft, far softer than what she had been used to as a mercenary. It caressed her skin, airy enough to keep cool in summer yet thick enough to stay warm in winter.

"Come, let's lay down, we can talk more as we drift to sleep," Byleth said, softly.

With many kisses and tender touches, the pair eased into bed. Thick, down mattress and pillows sunk beneath them, cradling them in a crater of warmth and comfort. Mercedes settled on her side, presenting her back to Byleth. The young mercenary slid closer to the woman, draping an arm over her and tracing the sensitive skin on the back of her hand. Mercedes was tense, an occasional hitch in her breath betraying words she had trouble bringing into existance.

"You don't have to say anything more if you don't want to," Byleth offered.

"I do want to, it's just difficult to talk about. I-I fear waking up like I did when mother and I had to leave House Bartels, or when my adoptive father collected me from the church," the healer trembled slightly, clenching her sheets as she pressed closer to Byleth.

"You're afriad someone will take you away again."

Mercedes nodded, "My fate is with the Goddess. I cannot change whatever my adoptive father has planned for me...but I've always worked hard to please the Goddess, to beg for Her protection against whatever may come," a bit of laughter choked up from her, "Always a barter, huh? I work hard for Her, so she will protect me...I don't know what I'd do were She not protecting me." 

Byleth slid her hand into Mercedes, holding her close as her heart ached at the full painting of Mercedes soul. It didn't have to be this way, she was certain. It _couldn't_ be this way, and damn all the nobles of the world for making it so.

"Mercie, you don't have to be a martyr to earn the Goddess protection. I don't believe that. Just as I refuse to believe that you cannot change the outcome of your life."

Mercedes shuddered and sniffed as she clenched Byleth's hand. The ex-mercenary tenderly nosed soft strands of hair out of her way as she laid out a series of kisses along the back of her partner's neck, "You don't have to go with him anymore. You can fight him, and I'll be right by your side, should you want that of me."

"Thank you, Byleth," Mercedes choked, "I'm sorry...I don't usually let this happen. I never let people see this."

"It's okay, you don't need to apologize," Byleth soothed, pushing her lovers sleeve up so she could stroke her arm. Tiny nodes of gooseflesh rose beneath her touch, shifting as the body they rose on fell apart for the first time in years. Byleth held on through the cyclone, allowing Mercedes the space to feel; to break apart and come together in a space where she was no longer alone. Gradually, her weeping slowed, tension drifting down like the first heavy flakes of snow. Her weight leaned into Byleth's lithe form, open and raw.

“Good night, dearest Byleth,” Mercedes mumbled, thankful and full of the weight of slumber, "I love you."

Rare tears sprung to Byleths eyes, "I love you too," Byleth said as she leaned forward, caressing the healers cheek with a lingering kiss, “Good night, my sweet Mercie.”

* * *

**Epilogue**

Their reunion, a little over five years later, had been far more than joyous. Upon seeing Byleth Mercedes rushed forward, veil spanning behind her like a song, until the pair met in each other's arms. Heedless of the others surrounding them, they embraced, kissing away tears while Mercedes sweet tones of affection mingled with Byleth’s repetitive apologies for not being able to reunite sooner. 

Neither cared to keep their relationship secret in the throes of war, and none of their companions seemed to care for that matter. Annette had been over the moon at the thought of her dear friend falling in love and sending a letter to her father refusing to bend to his demands of an arranged marriage. 

When the battle was won they married, and eventually made their way to the old capital with a small host of retainers to speak to the man who once controlled so much of Mercedes life. 

Heavy snows had fallen on Fhirdiad, the northern city was completely blanketed with a white that gleamed in the sun. Byleth and Mercedes walked side by side over the crusted streets, their retainers keeping pace some way behind. 

“Are you nervous, darling?” Byleth asked. Snow crunched against the cobblestone under their feet, echoing over the sleepy streets. 

“A little, but I cannot abide to have him in my life any longer, especially now that mother is safe at the monastery. Since he wouldn’t listen to my letter, I’ll just have to make him listen in person,” Mercedes responded. She had started growing her hair back out once the fighting had finished. Now it was kept tied loosely in the back, just touching the lower tip of her shoulder blades. 

Byleth took her partner’s gloved hand in her own, wishing it weren’t so bitterly cold so the warmth of flesh could meet.

“You’re going to do great. I”ll be right beside you, ready to step in if you give the signal.” 

“I really appreciate you coming with me and being so willing to let me take the lead on this. It means so much to me, to finally be able to look him in the eye and tell him what a dastard I think he is.” 

A deep, belly laugh rumbled up Byleth’s ribs, “That man has no idea what’s coming for him.” 

Her wife grinned and squeezed her hand, giving her a quick peck on the cheek as they drew near to her adoptive father’s estate. It was a gaudy, wooden complex, decked out in pennants and finerys of clearly cheap make. Guards at either side of the entrance, appointed by Byleth herself, saluted at their approach. 

The main hall was warmed by a large fire blazing in a central hearth. It filled the hall with a smokey scent. In front of it was a rather short man with a thick brown beard peppered with grey. His balding head, glistening in the flickering flames, called back to what must have been a flowing mane at one point in time. The slightly creased face broke into a host’s grin at the sight of the women approaching.

“ _So this is the merchant, Rafa_ ,” Byleth mused. 

He approached, bowing low with one arm out as far as he could manage, “Welcome, my queen and daughter, such a blessing to have you and your retainers grace my halls.” 

“The pleasure is ours, most esteemed Rafa,” Byleth had to force the politeness behind the words, practically prying them from her vocal chords, “We will not be staying long, but we could not make our way through Fhirdiad without paying a brief visit.” 

“That is such a shame,” the man groaned, wringing his hands in front of him, “I would have been delighted to play full host to your highness and my beloved daughter, but pay no mind, I’ll just have to come visit you in the new capital sometime,” unabashed greed flickered in his eyes, giddy at the prospects waiting for him at Garreg Mach. 

“Actually, Rafa, as I mentioned in my last letter, that won’t be necessary,” Mercedes started. 

“Father, Father! Oh Mercedes, how many times must I tell you, just because I adopted you that doesn’t mean you can’t call me father.” 

Byleth felt her eye twitch, _who does this man think he is, does he not realize he is now speaking to another queen?_

“It’s Rafa,” Mercedes said, firm and unwavering, “Since you wouldn’t listen when I wrote to you, I’m coming to tell you in person. You are not my father and you are not welcome in my life at any capacity.” 

Rafa glared at Mercedes and guffawed, “That letter...you were just under the pressures of war and the good match I tried to set up for you...not that you turned out for the worse due to it,” he added with a small bow to Byleth. 

“No it was not,” Mercedes snapped, “You are not welcome anywhere near Garreg Mach. You only ever looked after yourself, at my risk, and I will not have you in any part of my life.” 

Byleth’s sword hand stayed near her weapon as Rafa’s face reddened, fists clenching at his sides.

“You never listened to me," Mercedes continued, "you made me think that my wants were irrelevant and that I was subject to a fate that I couldn’t control. Going to the Sorcerer’s Academy, enrolling at Garreg Mach..you fought them all at every step. You never cared about me, only what my crest could bring you.”

“That’s enough!” Rafa roared, stomping his foot and seething at Mercedes. The woman flinched but held her ground, anger rolling to furious boil within Byleth.

“How dare you speak to me that way in front of the queen," Rafa said, a dangerous tone in his voice.

“The Queen is my wife,” Mercedes countered, “If you would just…”

“Shut your mouth! I did not raise you to be an ungrateful nuisance!"

“You didn’t raise me at all,” Mercedes muttered. Byleth caught the faint lines of a hidden grimace on her wife’s face, anger lancing through her at the man's callousness. Mercedes took a step back, bringing herself back in line with her wife, right hand gently grazing the back of Byleth’s left before folding in front of her. She could just barely see that her jaw was set, body quivering slightly under the warm clothes.

“Sir, you’d do well to remember who you are speaking to,” Byleth said, calm, measured, stalking the man who was now her prey.

He bowed, flashing what he must have thought was a charming smile, “There is no offense to you my liege, it is my fault for her turn out and I offer my humblest apologies. The girl has been bold since the day I took her under my wing.” 

Byleth could hear the shuffling of the retainers behind her as she fought to keep her hand from clenching her sword. She checked the tempest flaring to life inside of her, reminding herself of her promise to keep the man alive. 

“As her adoptive father, I look forward to many visits to the capital. I would be more than happy to help you curb that tongue of hers. Not to mention I have a long list of potential nobles who I’m sure would be more than happy to help sire a child with her crest,” the way he smiled as his eyes traveled up her wife’s body made her skin crawl, intestines bunching into knots, “Bartels had that idea before he got himself killed.”

“That won’t be necessary!” Byleth snapped, taking pleasure in the way he leapt as her iron voice echoed off the walls, “You misjudge me, Rafa, it is not Mercedes who has incited my wrath. As far as I am concerned, you are not welcome anywhere near Garreg Mach. Since you refuse to listen to Mercedes, maybe I can get it through your thick, rotting skull.”

“I - my apologies, My Lady...I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he stammered, taking a step back with eyes like a rabbit caught in a snare.

Byleth opened her jacked, producing two sets of papers from it’s folds, grinning as all color vanished from Rafa’s face. His jaw flexed, opening and closing several times as he started shaking.

“I see I don’t need to tell you what these are,” she growled.

“But where...h-how?”

“That isn’t important. However, I’m sure you’re aware by now that The United Kingdom of Fodlan is taking stricter measures against the bartering of lives.” 

She could feel Mercedes tense beside her, hating that they had to go this far. Byleth felt disgust creep through her, even though they discussed such a route. She couldn’t stand referring to her wife as a slave in any form.

“Mercedes has gone above and beyond her call to kindness in asking me to spare your life, this once. You’re ‘adoption’ of her is null and void. If you are _ever_ spotted anywhere near Garreg Mach you will be killed on sight.” 

She took the thinner packed, bearing an embossed “Right of Adoption” at the top into her other hand, summoning a flame that set it ablaze. Rafa whimpered as the document curled, crumbling into ash before him. The other packet was returned to the safety of Byleth’s jacket. The war being waged on his face was priceless. He wanted so desperately to rage, to scream and curse her and Mercedes in every language he knew, but he didn’t dare do more than balk and tremble. He wouldn’t test the grace her partner had given him.

“Have I made myself clear,” she asked, enunciating each word, unable to keep a trace of contempt from her voice.

“Very much so...my sincerest gratitude to you and Lady Mercedes for the sparing of my wretched life,” he said, bowing, visibly shaken.

“Good. We will be taking our leave now.”

Byleth felt her muscles quaking with rage as she turned, passing through her retainers with Mercedes at her side. The party closed and followed in their wake, past the ashen door and back into the frigid streets. Byleth turned and bowed to the Kingdom guard stationed there, a knowing smile passing between them.

He was one of several soldiers tasked with keeping a secret watch on the estate. He would be keeping in direct contact with Ferdinand, the intrepid provider of the document’s that Rafa had kept hidden for so long. While she did not anticipate the merchant trying anything, she did not like to leave matters to chance and had every confidence that her trusted appointees would not let him go a second out of their sight.

The small company meandered through the streets, passing cozy, lit windows as they made their way to the inn. A few blocks from the estate Mercedes paused, turning to her wife and enveloping her. Byleth felt her body shivering through the fabric and held her close. Noticing the retainers looking, she motioned for them to continue without them. 

“That was terrible,” Mercedes whispered in her ear, breath warm on the freezing flesh.

“I know, Mercie,” Byleth murmured, kissing the pale, exposed skin at the base of her wife’s neck, “It’s over now, you’re beyond his reach.”

“Thank you so much for coming with me. I’m sorry you had to get involved like that...I’m so angry at how easily he dismissed me, that he would think that you’re the kind of person to sell my body,” her voice wavered as she squeezed.

Byleth’s muscles softened, tension deflating as a new, more important task was required of them. She kissed her wife’s jawline, lips picking up a salty drop. Her thumb tracing slow, simple patterns on Mercedes’ back. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. He is the kind of dastard who only listens to those he perceives to be authority. Had you permitted, I would have gladly stepped in sooner.” 

A small laugh tickled her earlobe, “I know you would have. I’m just glad I was finally able to confront him, face to face.” 

“You did beautifully, Mercie. I love you, so, so much.” 

“I love you as well,” Mercedes kissed her cheek, placing her damp face against Byleth’s, “Do you mind if we stay like this for a moment? I don’t want everyone else to see me like this.” 

“Take all the time you need, beloved.”

Byleth felt icy spots on her face, tears frozen out of existence. The feral winds sent lances through her veins, invigorating her nervous system as she soothed her wife. When they finally parted, Byleth cupped her beloved’s face in a hand, tactfully removing a tear with her thumb as she kissed her. 

“Do you remember that bakery I told you about?” Mercedes asked.

“Of course! The one with the best petit fours, outside of your own, in the region, right?"

“Yes! Let’s stop by before we go back to the inn.”

“I’d love that! If I remember, there’s a small orphanage around here too, isn’t there? Let’s get some treats for them as well.”

“That would be delightful!” Mercedes responded, golden rays of starlight shimmering in her eyes. Arms linked, they strolled the icy streets in search of the coveted bakery, a new freedom lending light and adoration to their steps; one that lasted within them through the decades.


End file.
